


Strong

by maevesdarling



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Animals, Crushes, Eventual Relationships, Flirting, Fluff, Gentleness, I'm Bad At Tagging, Injury, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Secret Crush, Short One Shot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:19:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17511884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevesdarling/pseuds/maevesdarling
Summary: Charles finds a bird on his hunting trip and brings it with him to camp. He tells Arthur a story about his father and they sit together."Who's there?" Bill shouted, raising his shotgun. "It's Charles." The half native american said in a tired voice. He walked right past Bill and Arthur, he was holding something in his arms and he was wearing a look of concentration on his face. Arthur was curious on what the man was holding so he decided to follow him.





	Strong

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a really short one shot I hadn't gotten around to post on Ao3 before. Enjoy.

Arthur squinted his eyes against the rising sun. It was a sunny morning on Horseshoe Overlook. Tilly and Mary Beth were laughing in the distance, both woman busy washing some of the gangs dirty clothes in a washbasin. Dutch was smoking one of his cigars in front of his tent, watching the rest of the gang getting on with their day. 

"Morning Arthur." Hosea said, a mug of coffee in his hand. "You heading out today?" The conman raised one of his eyebrows and crooked his head slightly. Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. " 'M not sure yet." He had just returned to camp after a successful hunt in the Grizzlies so he was looking forward to spend at least half a day resting before he'd head out again. "Alright then. Well if you do, keep an eye out for Charles, he's been gone for some time. I wonder what's holding him up." The older man sat down on the old, shabby table that stood close to the camps entrance and opened a book.

Arthur kicked his feet in the dirty, unsure what to do next. He decided to do some chores and began with cutting some wood. Ever since the O'Driscoll boy was set free he had taken over carrying for the horses so Arthur spend less time looking after them, knowing that someone else was already doing that job. He still went over to his own horse to feed her a sugar cube while stroking her soft mane. "Good girl." He praised the horse as she happily munched away.

A noise from the bushes behind him startled Arthur. Somebody was walking towards the camp. 

"Who's there?" Bill shouted, raising his shotgun. "It's Charles." The half native american said in a tired voice. He walked right past Bill and Arthur, he was holding something in his arms and he was wearing a look of concentration on his face. Arthur was curious on what the man was holding so he decided to follow him.

Charles walked towards Pearson's wagon before making a sharp turn that led him behind the wagon to the big barrels full of water. "Charles? You okay?" Arthur started slowly. At first he wasn't sure if the other man had heard him. He lowered his hands towards the barrel than stopped. "Mhm. Oh. Arthur, come here a minute." Arthur complied without hesitation. "Here, hold this for a second while I get a mug." Charles said and put a small bird into Arthur's palms. 

The outlaw almost flinched away when soft feathers brushed his skin. "I uh- what?" He stammered looking down at the bird. It was a little sparrow. Some of its feathers were ruffled and stood in into the wrong direction. His heart was beating fast in Arthur's hands, he could feel it beating against his skin. "What happened? I thought you were supposed to hunt?" Charles nodded. He had grabbed a mug from somewhere and began to fill it with some water. "I was. Hunted some deer just outside Valentine when this little guy fell right out of the sky. I saw a hawk circling the woods, he probably attacked the sparrow." Charles dipped his fingers into the water and held them towards the bird who still didn't moved. "Come let's sit down in the shade over there." Charles took hold of Arthur's shoulder and manoeuverd them into the cool gras behind them. The two men leaned against the trunk of a tree and proceed to try and get the bird to drink. 

Fortunately the bird started drinking after another failed try. He was still in shock and allowed Charles to brush it's feathers. The gentle outlaw took the bird from Arthur with a smile and inspected the wings. "Looks fine to me. He was probably just in shock from the attack." He let his head fall back against the tree and lowered the bird into his lap. 

"You plan on keeping that thing, Smith?" The native american shook his head. "It's not meant to be held in captivity, Arthur." His finger gently caressed the birds head, who chirped quietly. "When I was a child, I brought a bird home to my dad." Charles began without looking up from the bird. "I thought he was happy I saved the bird, but he did absolutely nothing. Just took another sip from his whiskey." There was the hint of disgust in Charles voice as he said those words and Arthur nodded his head slowly. "I nursed it back to health. Took me a whole week but by the end he was able to fly again. I knew I had to let him go but it was hard. The bird was the only thing that seemed interested in me." Arthur had to swallow the urge to reach out to touch the other man. "I let it free a few days later. I don't think my dad even noticed I still had it, he was passed out drunk for most of the week and when he wasn't, he was out making a mess, getting into fights all that." A smile creeped up on Charles face when the bird in his hands turned it's head and chirped louder. "It's alright, Hotah." Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"What's that word? Sparrow? Bird?"

Charles huffed, the smile got even bigger. "No, it's a name. I- I thought we should give the little one a name. It means 'strong'." Arthur made an understanding humm and reached out to touch the bird. It was warm and soft.

"Hotah huh? I like it. Didn't take you for the type of guy who names animals he found in the wild."

"Well, there's a lot you still don't know about me, Arthur." Charles said amused and Arthur nodded. "Right and I'm looking forward to know you even better." A second after he said that, the outlaw realized how wrong his words sounded. "I mean, uh-"

He scratched the back of his head. "Ah shit, you know what I mean." He said with a frown.

The bird moved it's wings and jumped a bit in Charles hands. "Oh, I think our little friend is ready to get moving again." He got up from the ground and walked a couple of feet until they were standing near the cliffs edge, overlooking the Dakota River and West Elizabeth. 

"Good luck, Hotah, stay away from hawks." Charles raised the bird higher before he opened his palms. The bird flew off with a happy chirp and soon disappeared into the blue, cloudless sky. Arthur stared after him in awe. "It was nice of you to save that bird." He said, not meeting Charles face. They were standing so close to each other, their shoulders touched. "Let's get back to the rest of the camp." Charles proposed, nudging Arthur's shoulder. "Alright." He said and hoped the native american wouldn't notice his cheeks heating up at the touch.


End file.
